GERALD. Oh, yours can wait. Look here, I've ordered the lunch. I made sure you'd come. [_Rosamund shakes her head._] Why can't you? It's not cooking, is it? ROSAMUND. Only a goose. GERALD. What goose? ROSAMUND. Well--my own, and somebody else's. Listen, Gerald. Had you not better ask me this awfully important question now? No time like the present. GERALD. I can always talk easier, especially on delicate topics, with a pint of something handy. But if you positively won't come, I'll get it off my chest now. The fact is, Rosie, I'm in love. ROSAMUND. With whom? GERALD. Ah! That's just what I want you to tell me. ROSAMUND [_suddenly starting_]. Gerald! what is that dreadful thing sticking out of your pocket, and pointing right at me? GERALD. That? That's my revolver. Always carry them in Cyprus, you know. Plenty of sport there. ROSAMUND [_breathing again_]. Kindly take it out of your pocket and put it on the table. Then if it does go off it will go off into something less valuable than a cookery-lecturer. GERALD [_laughingly obeying her_]. There. If anything happens it will happen to the screen. Now, Rosie, I'm in love, and I desire that you should tell me whom I'm in love with. There's a magnificent girl in Cyprus, daughter of the Superintendent of Police-- ROSAMUND. Name? GERALD. Evelyn. Age nineteen. I tell you I was absolutely gone on her. ROSAMUND. Symptoms? GERALD. Well--er--whenever her name was mentioned I blushed terrifically. Of course, that was only one symptom.... Then I met a girl on the home steamer--no father or mother. An orphan, you know, awfully interesting. ROSAMUND. Name? GERALD. Madge. Nice name, isn't it? [_Rosamund nods._] I don't mind telling you, I was considerably struck by her--still am, in fact. ROSAMUND. Symptoms? GERALD. Oh!... Let me see, I never think of her without turning absolutely pale. I suppose it's what they call "pale with passion." Notice it? ROSAMUND [_somewhat coldly_]. It seems to me the situation amounts to this. There are two girls. One is named Evelyn, and the thought of her makes you blush. The other is named Madge, and the thought of her makes you turn pale. You fancy yourself in love, and you wish me to decide for you whether it is Madge or Evelyn who agitates your breast the more deeply. GERALD. That's not exactly the way to put it, Rosie. You take a fellow up too soon. Of course I must tell you lots more yet. You should hear Evelyn play the "Moonlight Sonata." It's the most marvelous thing.... And then Madge's eyes! The way that girl can look at a fellow.... I'm telling you all these things, you know, Rosie, because I've always looked up to you as an elder sister. ROSAMUND [_after a pause, during which she gazes into his face_]. I suppose it was in my character of your elder sister, that you put a certain question to me four years ago last night?